


The Game

by SeigaKato17



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 18:02:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeigaKato17/pseuds/SeigaKato17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A genius empath is enrolled in a prestigious private school. An intelligent psychopath meets his match. Who will be the first to fall?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> || The cast of Hannibal is about to be thrown into the chaos of drama and hormones known as highschool- Turmoil ensues! Enjoy the ride.~
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters belong to Thomas Harris! –Beautifully portrayed by the cast picked by Brian Fuller.

Behind closed eyelids, the images were even more vibrant. Even more alive. On this particular day, the young man envisioned himself standing in a large, rushing river. Despite the water's smooth movements over the scratched rubber of his boots, he felt unnerved. The silence was breaking. He was beginning to hear the call of a bird. Much like the screaming of a child. Slowly, he turned his head in the direction of the terrible sound. Something big was moving there in the bushes...

 _"_ _Wakey wakey."_

A prodding fingertip pressed into his cheekbone, jolting him out of his not-so restful slumber. Bringing a hand upward, he slowly ran it along his weary face. "..Here already?" He murmured quietly, his voice still heavy with sleep. Here, would be DuBois High. A private school. He already missed the house back in Virginia. "Bingo.~" His foster brother chirped up, much too annoying for his own good. Leaning over in his seat, he patted at his pockets for a brief moment before his heavily rimmed glasses were slid onto his face by hands that were not his own. "Don't wanna forget these, Will."

Grunting quietly in response, Will smacked the other male's hand away as it lingered on his cheek.  "If I remember right, they were on when I got into the car." As he responded bluntly, he pressed the eject button on his seatbelt and let himself out. It wasn't long before the taller male joined him at the entrance of the school, draping a lanky arm around his shoulders. "Relax, little bro. These kids are monsters. They can smell fear." Smirking wryly, Matthew patted the shoulder of his prickly new family member and nodded toward the open door down the hall. "There's the office. You should talk to Jack for a bit before heading to the counsellor's. I'm already late. See ya." With that, Will was released, and the other male wandered away into the sea of rushing uniformed teenagers.

Exhaling slowly through his nose, Will pushed his glasses up along the bridge of his nose. This would be fun. That was what Jack had told him the night before. There was no need to talk to him now. Narrowly avoiding the open office door, he made his way down the hallway to the counsellor's office. He hadn't gotten his schedule yet.

\--------------------------------------

He was late. That was not a good sign. The male stared idly at the mahogany door as he listened for the tell-tale creak of someone approaching. In his boredom, the male drifted to the door and placed a large hand upon the silver handle. He was waiting for someone by the name of 'William Graham.' And judging by his sense of timing, the boy would not be knocking either. Hannibal thrived on manners, however he was not unkind. The young man would have a chance to redeem himself.

As the door finally began to open, Hannibal stepped back, returning to his seat on the polished wooden desk. He fully intended to regard the male as he would a pig, however the sight that met him left him speechless.

"I'm sorry I'm late. ..I got lost."

A young man, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, stood before him. Not very tall, an array of chocolate curls adorned his head, his flesh slightly bronzed. But by far, the most surprising aspect of the boy was the colour of his eyes. The blue was shocking. Icy. Much like the winters in Lithuania.

However, those pools were hidden by a pair of horrendous glasses. A shame, it was. Perhaps he would be able to maneuver them off. The glasses, among other things.

Oh, he was interested.

\---------------------------------------

Perfect. There were so many goddamn halls in this school, and they all looked exactly the same. Speaking of the same, he couldn't get over the school uniforms. It was already hard enough to discern people from one another without them wearing matching monkey suits. At least his wouldn't be arriving for another few days.

After being found wandering the halls by the science teacher, he was herded in the right direction. He decidedly didn't like that Dr. Chilton. The man talked to him like he was an idiot.

As he stood before the door, he took a brief moment to simply push his glasses up again. He was tempted to knock, but the 'doctor' had told him to go right in. He was expected, after all. Right?

Will stared down at his scuffed brown boots for a good two minutes before lightly pushing the door open. He found that it hadn't been completely closed to begin with.

Slowly shifting inside, he cast his eyes on the shoes of the counsellor after his awkward apology. He hadn't yet looked up. If he wasn't mistaken.. Those were men's shoes. Expensive, too. Leather, about size 12. And by the looks of the craftsmanship.. Tailor-made. This most definitely was not Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier.

Will's icy hues raised only then, catching on fine details on the male's body meticulously until finally settling on his slightly blurred face. This man was wearing the school uniform.

"..Who are you?"

\---------------------------------------

Recovering nearly instantly, Hannibal allowed an easy smile to pull at his lips and held out a greeting hand. He hadn't stared for more than a second, of that he was absolutely sure. The boy couldn't have noticed it. However, his sharp predatory gaze did not miss the way that the boy looked at him. Analytical. Not quite curious.

"Ah, you must be William. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Hannibal Lecter."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the awkward office scene continues–

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> || Alright, here comes the second chapter. And out come Will's claws-

His gaze lingered on Hannibal's outstretched hand for a long moment before finally offering his own in a firm greeting. If his foster father had taught him anything in the last twenty-four hours, it was how to give a proper handshake. However it wasn't as if Will wouldn't release the hand as fast as possible. Without being rude, anyway.

"Yeah, it's nice to meet you too." He murmured quietly, releasing the other male's hand. His gaze immediately dropped to the floor, unwilling to remain on Hannibal. He was getting a strange vibe from him, and he wasn't about to stare into his eyes to find out why.

As the other male began to speak, Will's attention was caught on the sound of his voice. It was deep and smooth.. Perhaps velvety would be the proper word. But the accent was difficult to pinpoint. Russian? No. Swedish? Closer. He really couldn't tell. The rustling of papers brought his eyes back to the male's face. It was clear that he was amused with something. Then and only then did Will realize that he had missed all that Hannibal had been saying.

"–On the very top. ..I can show you to the dorms now, if you wish."

\--------------------------------------

He was well aware that the boy had begun to space out on him. Hannibal was no stranger to vacant eyes. But it appeared that this one was thinking of something intently. It was amusing to watch William's brows furrow in frustration. Quite adorable, really.

"Unfortunately, Dr. Du Maurier is away from the school at the moment. But I will be here to help with your adjustment to this school, so there is no need to worry." Pausing for a brief moment, he reached back and procured a few helpful documents for the new student. His gaze settled on the boy's face as he held them out. Their gazes had finally met. It was nothing short of electric.

"Included is a map of the school and the extra-curricular activities going on. Your schedule is on the very top. The keys to your dorm are already in the room. ...I can show you to the dorms now, if you wish."

Will had taken the papers, but was still staring at him like he had seen a pair of antlers growing out of the older boy's head. As if to make sure he really had grown any, Hannibal drove his long fingers through his sandy locks. Nothing pointy. So what did this boy see?

"..Thanks. I would appreciate that." Murmuring out quietly, Will took a few steps back before turning to the door. Hannibal's predatory eyes drifted to the boy's back, the friendly smile slowly fading away. The boy could see him.

\---------------------------------------

As they began to walk down the hall, Will restrained himself from casting side-long glances at the other male. No matter how he thought of it, there was no way that this uniformed replacement was his age. Hannibal was sophisticated and mature, mentally and physically. It caused his anxiety to spike. Will didn't do well with adults. –Not that he did well with anyone.

"William.. You do not have to feel nervous around me. I am just another student."

Hannibal's voice was quiet, and if he hadn't been listening closely, he would have missed it. Frowning to the floor, Will snorted quietly. "..What makes you think that I'm nervous?"

He knew that the older male had turned to glance down at him. He could feel the sharp gaze. However he heard only a simple response.

"The lack of conversation. Your tension is radiating."

By this time, they had arrived at the room that Hannibal indicated belonged to Will. The male's words ringing in his ears, Will placed his hand on the doorknob and exhaled slowly through his nose. Unable to stop himself, he aimed his glare at the older boy, blue eyes flashing. He didn't enjoy being psychoanalyzed.

"I just don't find you that interesting."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will encounters a familiar face in his dreams, and meets his new roommate in a very strange way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> || There's not much of Hannibal in this chapter, but he'll definitely dominate more of the next.

He hadn't expected that reaction at all. Groaning out low, he brought both hands up and rubbed them along his weary face. With that, Will dropped back onto his bed. His mind was filled of Hannibal. The foreign beauty of his face. The playful curl of his tinted lips. And his eyes.. Will hadn't needed to see to know that they were predatory. Just thinking of the older boy was giving him a horrible migraine. The look on Hannibal's face continued to run on repeat through his mind, just as his words were.

\---------------------------------------

Hannibal's thin, Cupid's bow lips curved into a pleasant smile. His frigid maroon eyes held only mild amusement, as one would have while watching a puppy tangled in it's own leash. Perhaps he would help the boy untangle.

The taller male found himself approaching, closing in on the boy. Such an innocent thing he was. Reaching out, he brushed his knuckles along the younger male's sharp jawline.

"Oh.. you will."

After only a short pause, he retracted his hand and spoke again, his long fingers curling into the expanse of his palm. "And you know where you can find me. Have a good afternoon."

Turning away from the boy, Hannibal walked back down the hall. The look on Will's face was perfect, caught between a deer in headlights and a defensive stag. But Will hadn't recoiled from his touch. It was an excellent sign.

The boy would be his.

\--------------------------------------

Turning restlessly onto his side, Will gazed at the empty bed on the other side of the room. The boxes were still unpacked around him, but the other side looked perfectly lived in. Strangely tidy, though. Not to say that he was a pig.

Now that he thought of it, he hadn't been told who his roommate was. There was nothing but a number on the nameplate. Hopefully whoever his roommate was, they were nothing like Hannibal Lecter.

It was already dark. Just how long had he laid here, thinking about the other boy? Closing his eyes, he curled himself around the bunched up sheets. He hadn't had the energy to strip down as usual. Hannibal had tired him out mentally, and he was ready to bow out. It wasn't long before he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

\--------------------------------------

_A feathered stag walked through the room that night, the soft clicking of it's hooves the only sound made on the hardwood floor. Why couldn't he hear anything else? Perhaps he was never meant to hear anything else. He preferred it this way. It was much calmer._

_Slowly raising his head from the sheets, he turned toward the large beast that stood before him. Will couldn't see very well in the dark, but he knew how close the stag had gotten. The face was mere inches from his own. The clicking began again. Swallowing dryly, he resisted the urge to shift himself backward. However, his fingertips began digging into the bed. Just what did it want?_

_The great creature dipped it's head and remained in place. The position triggered a thought to run through Will's mind. It looked gentle enough. But what if he was wrong? Tentatively, Will reached out with an open palm toward the stag's head. Where he had expected to feel silken fur, he felt human flesh. Human fingers. And they curled around his own._

\---------------------------------------

Waking with a start, he came to the realization that he could still feel the cold fingers around his hand. He forced his body to sit up and he turned his blurred gaze on the one that held his hand captive. A man. A school uniform.. Hannibal? It couldn't be. Earlier that day, his hand had been so warm. 

Inhaling sharply, he yanked his hand away from the unknown male. "Easy there, Will. It's just me." The voice murmured quietly before the bedside lamp was switched on. It was much too bright for him to see. Reaching up, Will rubbed the sleep from his eyes before looking at the male again. Short brown hair, soulless obsidian eyes. It was Matt.

"What are you.. Why are you here?" He grumbled out sleepily, his brows drawing together in slight annoyance. The early hours of the morning were not Will's favourite time to be awake. And the fact that other boy looked thoroughly amused was not helping his mood.

"Has anyone told you how adorable you are when you sleep?" Grinning widely, the intruder ruffled Will's already messy curls before standing up. "Anyway, I got my room switched to this one a couple days ago. You should be happy. You would have gotten stuck with Abel Gideon otherwise. That kid is fucked." Glancing over at Matt, he made a slight face. He was unsure whether to believe his story or not. He supposed he might as well. His brother hadn't lied to him since their meeting a week prior.

"Oh. I'm sure we would have gotten along then." Yawning into his palm, he shifted off of the bed only to hear a soft clatter. His glasses. He had nearly crushed them in his sleep it appeared. Not that he needed them.

"Why'd you have my hand?" Without glancing at the male, he wandered over to a nearby box to find clean clothes to wear. The ones he had on were uncomfortable and slightly damp. Much like his relationship with Matt.

"You were reaching it out when I got in here. Figured I'd let you hold my hand in place of whatever the hell you were grabbing for." His brows finally relaxing, Will grasped a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. "Ah. Well your cold ass hand gave me a heart-attack."

Snorting out softly, Matt dug through the drawer by his bed. "Sorry, I forgot to take my gloves earlier. It's fucking cold out there." Tugging his thick sweater over his head, Will sighed heavily. "You should've come in earlier then. There's no way it would be any sort of warm at this time of night." What had Matt been doing out all night in the first place? After turning his gaze onto the older male for a brief moment, he abruptly decided that he didn't want to know. As his eyes were shifting away, Matt's head suddenly turned toward him.

"Oh right.. Jack said that he wanted to see you in his office tomorrow."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> || The awkward office meeting commences!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> || I'm so sorry for the long delay! I've had writer's block for the longest time. —But watching the finale of Hannibal snapped me out of it. Upcoming chapters will be posted up at a steady pace.

That night had been quite a disappointment. He hadn't managed to find a suitable pig to fulfill his primal needs. The one that he had been following had turned out to have less potential to be his dinner than he had initially thought. They had engaged in a rather incriminating conversation, now that he thought back on it. One thing that stood out rather boldly to Hannibal, was that the dark-haired male thought of himself as a hawk, more than anything else. The mere look in that boy's stony black eyes lead Hannibal to believe him. He seemed amused at the surrounding world, detached. Something that they happened to share. But even he had to admit, there was something about him that wasn't quite right. There was only one way that he could explain it. A deep-set madness that crept beneath the flesh.

Hannibal had been approaching him when the male had just turned easily, as if greeting an old friend. He was slightly surprised by the sudden meeting of eyes. Those eyes. They were nearly as shocking as Will's. However in a completely different way. They were soulless and predatory. He would have to keep his eyes on the hawk. It would be a problem to be hunted at this prison of a school. That wasn't to say he didn't have a clinical interest in him. However, the last comment that the stranger had to make was what really caught his interest.

Chuckling to himself, Hannibal laid back on his bed and slid his gaze to the heavy door.

"Stay away from my brother, hmm..?"

\--------------------------------------

The male's words were still fresh in his mind as he made his way down the now crowded hallway, narrowly avoiding the tidal wave of students. They always seemed to be rushing, no matter the time. Perhaps they were more like common rats than pigs. He would have to watch what he was putting in his mouth.

That morning, he had been told that the principal of the school was requesting his presence. It was not the first time he had assisted the older man with school affairs. He did consider him a friend of sorts. Age was nothing but a number, after all. That's what the people seemed to be saying around here, anyway. Clearing his throat, he raised a hand to knock only to be beckoned in by the sound of Jack Crawford's voice.

"Just come in, Hannibal."

\---------------------------------------

Once again, he was nearly swept away by the sea of hormonal teens, all moving in their own direction. It was only by the grace of God that he managed to drag himself out of the crowd and to the door of the principal. As the door was slightly cracked open, he saw no reason to knock. Stepping forward, he slowly pushed the door, taken aback by the amused look on Jack Crawford's face.

There were two seats before the large desk. One was taken by a familiar student. Slowly, the broad-shouldered foreigner turned his head toward him. Without meaning to, he inhaled sharply and froze.

Hannibal.

"Will, take a seat." The sound of Jack's voice was just enough to snap him back to reality. Clearing his throat slightly, the male made his way over to the chair, careful to approach on the outer side. He didn't trust himself to tread so close to the other student. Why? He wasn't sure. It wasn't as if the male would trip him. Or grab him.

Again, he was distracted. But he continued to stare at the principal as if he was paying attention to every detail. He couldn't help his mind from wandering. The older boy next to him was overwhelming his senses with the sheer size of his presence. Why was he here anyway?

"...my boy, Will. I want him to be socialized, and there wouldn't be anyone better for him to connect with than you, Hannibal."

\---------------------------------------

Ah, so that was it. Jack wanted him to keep an eye on his wide-eyed baby boy. A child that he didn't have a very strong bond with, it seemed. A foster child. From the blank look he could see on the other boy's face, he could tell that he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to his current situation. Jack didn't seem to have a problem with it. Perhaps he didn't notice. Perhaps he didn't care. Hannibal could use that to his advantage.

An easy smile drawing across his lips, he turned his gaze to his charge. What an adorable expression. "I will look forward to sharing your company, Will."

As he spoke, he could see the male tentatively shifting to peer at the area near his body. A problem with making eye contact, it seemed. He would fix that. He would have those icy blue eyes on him, always on him.

And suddenly, the contact was made. But the empathic young Will was bristling. Not at him this time, but at the man sitting behind the desk. As he heard the low mutter, he had quite a bit of trouble concealing an amused smirk.

"You're setting me up with a _babysitter_."

"Will." Jack chided, as if speaking to an unruly child. As if on cue, the bell rang for the first classes of the day to start. And so, the younger boy was halfway across the room before Hannibal could shift his gaze from the utterly exasperated expression that Jack was donning.

"If you'll excuse me.. I have a class to get to." And with that, the boy was gone. Exhaling slowly through his nose, he turned his gaze back to the older man.

"Perhaps this should have been made to look less like an intervention, Jack."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> || Will receives a rather unwelcome visitor.

As much as he wanted to ignore his foster father's direct orders to socialize, there was no way he could do that. Having taken the time to study Jack Crawford, he knew that the man didn't take disobedience lightly. And so, here he was. Purposely taking his sweet time getting out of bed. He had taken so long that his owlish brother had left him. Turning his head toward the nightstand, his weary eyes locked onto the face of the alarm clock.

[ 9:03am ]

He wanted to stay in bed, but his psychology class would be starting at ten. Sighing out low, he slowly forced his sparsely clothed body to sit up. It was cold in the room. With a slight turn of his head, he noted that the nearby window had been left open.

Just as his toes had gingerly splayed themselves against the frigid mahogany floor, there came a quiet knock. Brows raising, he took a good moment to pad over to the door. Jack was incredibly heavy-handed, and Matt wouldn't have bothered to knock. That left only one person. There was no surprise who he met gazes with as he slowly opened the door.

"Good morning, Will. May I come in?"

\---------------------------------------

It took him less than a moment to realize that he was able to see the male's eyes. Those lovely blue eyes. A smile began to curl at his thin lips as he gazed down at the boy. As he had expected, the pleasure of this meeting wasn't reciprocated. He was receiving quite an annoyed look.

"Where's Crawford?" The boy muttered out, tentatively peering around him, as if waiting for the larger man to leap out at him. It seemed that Will now associated him with the stranger he had been adopted by. He would have to change that. Keeping his hands in view, he leaned in just slightly. The other male's shoulder's visibly tensed. Too adorable. He would show the boy that he had nothing to fear from him.

"Currently deposed to the school board. The adventure is yours and mine today." Glancing into the room over the frowning male's shoulder, he inhaled slightly. Ah, that familiar scent. It belonged to the man from a few nights before. This room was shared by the hawk. But he was absent, it seemed.

"May I come in?" Giving him a final scowl, the boy relented and turned away from him. Staying close behind, he entered the room and gently closed the door before following him to the small table. The room was relatively clean, the few unopened boxes making a slight tripping hazard. Nothing lethal. Setting down the bag he had been carrying, he removed two bowls and set them on the table. It seemed that Will had gotten in the spirit of things, and had proceeded to pull two chairs up to the table.

"I can't say I've ever had a breakfast like this one." He murmured out quietly, sharply stabbing at a piece of the 'sausage.' It was no shock that the boy had gone for the meat first. He was a born to be a predator.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Will. I am extremely careful about what I put in my body. So I find myself cooking most of my meals." Much to his pleasure, the boy began to eat without complaint. Perhaps training him would be easier than he had first thought.

"It's delicious. Thank you." With a curt response, Will scooped the mixed scrambled eggs onto the plate before him and continued to feed his hunger. Sticking his own fork into the bowl, he brought a small piece of the egg to his lips. The boy was making such a hard expression. He would have to prod him in just the right place to crack the shell he had created. Clearing his throat slightly, he set the fork down beside the bowl and gazed over the surface of the table at the other male.

"I am truly sorry for the ambush yesterday. I have the feeling that I'll be apologizing for much more in the future, so I will have to use 'I'm sorry' sparingly."

Much to his surprise, the blue-eyed boy simply stared at him.

\---------------------------------------

Raising his fork, he took another bite of the perfectly seasoned sausage before finally responding to the older boy. Without looking up, he muttered, "Let's just keep this short." Knowing that Hannibal was just Jack's lapdog came with a certain familiar side dish of annoyance. It was almost as if the boy had been enforced to keep an eye on his every move. He didn't enjoy being watched. The older boy didn't seem to care.

"Or we could socialize like adults. God forbid we become friendly."

Brows raised, the brunette turned his gaze to the male across the table. There was an amused expression on his handsome face, almost as though he was enjoying this completely uncomfortable situation. Of course he was. He had seemed like the type to enjoy watching people squirm.

A frown tugging at his lips, Will simply stood up and padded over to set his plate in the sink. His back to the older boy, he muttered out under his breath and turned the faucet on. "..I still don't find you that interesting.."

It was right at that moment, he felt the press of a larger, warm body against his back. He hadn't heard the other approach. As his tense muscles seized, the male's velvety voice caressed the shell of his ear.

"Like I said.. You will."


	6. Chapter 6

Will felt a chill travel violently through his spine, despite the fact that the boy behind him was so very warm. Turning suddenly, he pressed his forearm into the older male's chest and shoved him back. A deafening crash followed the aggression. The plate had slipped out of his soapy fingers and now lay in pieces on the floor. "..Don't.. do that." Hannibal had a look of innocence and confusion on his face, but Will knew that wasn't what he felt. He could see the amusement lapping at the edges of the male's features.

"Forgive me for startling you, but I was only placing my plate on the counter." The older boy gazed at him through dead maroon eyes, his head tilted slightly to the side. It was an incredibly _human_ look. One that Hannibal was near perfecting. It wasn't perfect, however, and that is all that mattered to Will. He had felt the male up against him in a way that could only have been intentional. Dominance was established with that simple movement. The best he could do right now was pretend that he didn't know what the other boy had been trying to do.

"...Sorry. Are you hurt?" Getting his hands on a nearby towel, Will crouched down and began to gather the fragments of glass. His gaze casted momentarily to the older boy as the broad form appeared in front of him, crouched in the same manner. "Not at all. Let me help." Large dusky hands began to move over the floor, easily finding purchase on each of the larger pieces. Will finally tore his gaze away from the lengthy fingers in favour of taking the glass to the trashcan. He couldn't keep avoiding his eyes forever.

\-----------------------------------

Hannibal could feel the boy's ethereal eyes on him, observing him, really _seeing_ him. It was incredibly erotic, how intimately they were involved, even as near-strangers. He briefly wondered what the boy was thinking as he stared at his fingers. Gazing down at them himself, he curled the appendages. He had taken the lives of many unworthy pigs with these hands. Could the boy also see that?

Shifting to his feet, he quietly walked to the sink and began to wash his plate. Will was clearly wary of him, and with good reason. However his plan would not work if the boy was afraid of him. Casting a sidelong glance towards the male clad only in a worn-out cotton t-shirt and boxers, he studied him with mild interest. His young friend seemed to have forgotten his state of dress. It worked out quite nicely for Hannibal, in the end. He was able to feel quite a bit of him, just with that momentary press of their bodies. Lost in thought, the male licked over his thin lips.

\----------------------------------

How could he possibly change the tide between them? Hannibal Lecter was obviously not a normal human being. Not in his mind. Will could see that the male was an emperor inside himself, and projected that thought into the world. He saw God and therefore believed that God saw him. Not as a man, but as an equal.

Swallowing dryly, Will pushed his fingers through his mass of curly locks, with a glance to the male once again. It was difficult not to look at him. Why in the hell did his glasses have to be under him last night? He couldn't keep avoiding the male's gaze. If Hannibal hadn't noticed the dodging, he would soon enough.

Glancing down at himself, it suddenly donned on him that he was very close to naked. Thankfully for him, it was then that his phone's alarm went off. "..I have to get to class." With a quiet mutter, he headed off to get dressed in the godforsaken outfit this school had chosen as a uniform.

Material against flesh, black trousers, white shirt and a grey pullover. The school's emblem was embroidered over the left breast. He stood before the dresser, on the other side of the room. It hadn't occurred to him to get changed in the bathroom, simply because Hannibal had already seen him. However the thought of having a man such as Hannibal Lecter watching him was.. thrilling. Even with his back turned, he could feel the dark, piercing gaze. Suddenly, there came the noise of hooves clacking against the hardwood floor.

His entire body tensed. Slowly, he turned around to find an empty space. Hannibal was nowhere to be found. He approached the door and glanced to a foreign note stuck ceremoniously upon the mahogany wood. It was simply a phone number.

In that moment, he didn't know if he was grateful that he hadn't seen the feathered stag or not.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of our friendly neighbourhood (teen) psychopath and his love-interest.

That entire day, Hannibal found himself glancing at his phone. Something that he never did. It was highly immature, this action. But the boy he had met only a day before was simply that special. He had so much potential. Overwhelming, really. In him, Hannibal had found the chance at friendship. The real, true kind of relationship that he formerly didn't think was possible between people. Specifically between him and another, given his _tastes_.

For what must have been the nineteenth time that hour, the Lithuanian glanced down at his phone. This particular time, he was noticed by another student in his psychology class. Alana Bloom. A prodigy in her own right. "It must take a genius to reduce the great Dr. Lecter to a pining teen."

Raising a pale brow, the male glanced towards the girl on his left. She was giving him a knowing look; an expression that was _solely_ charming on her. "A genius of sorts." He murmured deeply, his lips curved into an amused smile. "However I would argue that rather than 'pining', I am assertively waiting." Will was worth waiting for.

"Pining," she reinforced firmly, her features melting into smile at the same moment.

"Pining," he finally relented.

\------------------------------------

Due to Hannibal, Will was scowling into his lap the majority of the day, prompting a few of the teachers to give him strange looks. They chocked it up to him just being an oddball, however. It seemed that they had been forewarned by Jack Crawford. It worked out in his favour, he supposed. He didn't especially want to interact with other kids. But that was difficult to do in his physical education class. They were going to be playing a game of dodgeball. No head-shots. _Like that was going to happen._

The others on his team seemed to be purposefully spacing out around him, as if hoping he would draw the fire from the opponents. Their hopes were answered. Hard rubber balls were immediately thrown in his direction. Most missed, but the one that landed got him squarely in the face. In the next moment, he found himself laying on his back. "Damn, I really left a bruise.. you okay?"

Slowly cracking open his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of a girl leaning over him. "..Knocked a couple brain cells out.." He mumbled out softly, allowing an awkward smile to tug at his lips. She simply snorted and gripped his hand, pulling him up with surprising strength. "My name's Beverly," after a moment's pause, she gave him a once-over. "And you're the principal's new kid."

"Will." He murmured curtly, still slightly dazed from the knock to the head. Part of him worried that this ordeal would start making him see things as well as hearing them. Reaching up, he rubbed at his sensitive forehead. There would definitely be a bump there tomorrow. However, this wasn't a complete loss. He seemed to have found someone that was moderately friendly. "Well then, Will.. I owe you, for taking a head-shot. Not well, but you took it." With a chuckle, Beverly had patted him on the back and lead him off to the infirmary to make sure he hadn't gotten a concussion. The girl had the throwing arm of a quarterback, so he wouldn't be surprised if he did have one.

The nurse had ushered Beverly out, muttering about 'stupid kids these days.' She herself left moments later, leaving him along in the painfully white room. And at that nurse's demand, Will was now sitting on the edge of one of many beds, the brightness of the white sheets giving him a reason to look elsewhere. Like his phone, which Beverly had graciously slipped him before leaving. Formerly, he had entered the phone number from that morning in, under the contact name of Hannibal Lecter. All day, he had been unsure of what to say to the older boy. If he should even text him or not.

He might as well. Hannibal had left his number, after all. Finally typing out a simple message, he paused for a moment before hitting send.

- **It's Will.** -

In less than a minute, his phone lit up with a new message.

- **I heard you took a trip to the infirmary?** -

He paused and glanced about, aware in that moment that the nurse had been gone for a very long time. She wasn't particularly nice, but that didn't mean that he wanted to be left here alone. He was grateful that he at least had the older boy to speak to.

- **Took a tumble first.** -

Growing tired of the silence, Will clicked the sound on for his notifications. The phone soon beeped.

- **Wait for me.** -

There were no other messages for the next hour.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will becomes engulfed by his dark dreams, and Hannibal comes a bit closer to capturing his prize.

_Click. Clack. Click. The formerly blinding white of the surrounding area was becoming completely drenched in a thick grey smog. With a sharp intake of breath, the boy screwed his eyes shut. He could hear the telltale clacking of the feathered stag's approach. Will's heart hammered hard, resounding in the cavity of his skull. Why was he so afraid? And why couldn't he breathe? He jerked his limbs, finding that they were strapped to the bed. Eyelids flickering open, icy irises fluctuated to the weight on top of him. The dark form was large and blurred. Lengthy appendages were wrapped around the girth of his neck, squeezing down on his airway. Black edged at his vision, blurring the being's face even further. This couldn't be the stag. This wasn't his stag. Writhing beneath the nightmare, Will's pained gasps grew softer and softer. He could do nothing but lay there as the life was strangled from him._

\----------------------------------

It was nearly the evening by the time the older boy padded into the infirmary. Putting down the old sow had taken longer than he had initially planned out. Her blood had been incredibly difficult to scrub from his hands. Thick from narcotics, no doubt.

As he entered the resting area, his attention was immediately caught by the gasping boy on the bed. "Will..?" His voice was deep and velvety, gingerly testing the male's consciousness. Finding no response, he silently approached the splayed out figure. The room was mind-numbingly silent, save for the pitiful noises that his companion was making. Head cocking to the side, he stood over the male and simply observed. _Sleep paralysis perhaps? Or simply a nightmare._

Whatever it was, the display was truly tempting. Gym attire definitely suited the lost puppy. Sweat suited him even more. With a steady hand, he cupped the boy's damp jaw, massaging his palm into the prominent bone. The motion was greeted with parted lips and a shuddering moan. This lead his cold gaze to travel south.

Hannibal paused. Slowly, so slowly, a smirk of amusement curled his thin lips.   
This boy was craving for physical contact. For an emotional bond. For love. And that was exactly what he would bestow upon him. With a knee shifting into the bed, Hannibal loomed over the younger male, sandy blond locks slipping out of place. Ever so gently, he patted at the boy's cheek and whispered his name.

_"Will... Will.."_

\-----------------------------------

_All at once, antlers pierced the chest and torso of the demon, vanquishing it into a sea of viscous black liquid. It had sprayed onto him much like an arterial wound would have. Engulfing him. Drowning him._

_"..Will.."_

_The deep voice drifted into his dreams, tendrils of black curling around the male's form as they came away from his face._ Tentatively, he cracked open his eyes, partially expecting to see the bloody stag. Instead, he was blinded by the familiar white room. He could finally see again. And above him, was Hannibal Lecter. "Are you conscious, Will..?" The older male's cool hands were on his flushed cheeks, calloused thumbs sliding over his cheekbones.

"..I.. think so." His breathing was still rather uneven, his mind oversensitive to the illumination. Bringing his own hands to his face, he curled his fingers around the male's slender wrists. These couldn't be the limbs of the nightmare that had strangled him. "Could you.." He trailed off momentarily, to turn his face away from the bulb directly above them. ".. Ah.. Switch the lights off, please?"

Hannibal seemed to giving him a knowing look, one of sympathy and care. With a nod, he dismounted the boy and walked to the door. In a moment, the room had gone dark, the only source of light being the remaining rays of sun. Will was finally able to breathe as he was enveloped by the comfortable area between blinding light and equally blinding darkness. "How long.. have you been here?"

"Not long," came the mellow reply, the bed dipping as the male sat by his side. "You were having a bad dream."

Will reached up and slid his fingers along the hollow of his throat. It felt raw beneath his fingertips. _So very real_. "..It felt real." His voice was hoarse and quiet.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Pale blue hues flickered to the older boy's face, gauging his expression for more than a few moments. Hannibal was looking at him as if he were something to eat. _Psychologists, in-training or professional, were all the same. They loved a good nutcase._

"..I don't think s–" he mumbled out, his response cut short as he suddenly became painfully aware of his bulge down below. How could he possibly be tenting after an ordeal like that, real or not? Hannibal couldn't have missed it. But the older boy was simply sitting by his side, engaging him in conversation. It was unnerving. He had to distract the male until he could get rid of the erection. Talking about the horrific dream could aid in his deflation. "Actually.. Yes."

Hannibal's lips quirked slightly, as if he had just told himself a very sophisticated joke. "Go on."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hannibal finally gets his hands on Will.

“There’s a stag… that I often see.”

 He began slowly, his fingers idly sliding over the papery sheets. How did they expect any person to be comfortable while laying on these? It was quite possible that they assumed that the person was potentially in too much pain to notice the appalling quality of the surrounding material. Perhaps it was a money-saving tactic. Perhaps-

 “Will.”

 The velvety voice broke into his stacked thoughts, knocking them over like poorly set dominoes.

 Icy hues flickered up, catching the expression on the other boy’s face. It was an odd one, that was for sure. Emotion layered upon emotion to mask the blank slate that truly lurked beneath. He began again.

 “He stalks about in the very edges of my dreams... sometimes slipping into my waking vision.” Will was well aware that saying this could incriminate him as being certifiably insane, but he was also aware of the older boy’s unconventional manner of thinking. Hannibal Lecter wouldn’t judge him, but rather observe him as one would an exotic beast.

 “That dream involved something darker than the stag...”

 Will quieted once more, his hazy eyes displaying a rather lost expression. All over again, he could feel the demonic being’s fingers around his neck. Crushing. Violently denying him the necessity of oxygen. It was the pure calculated aggression that had left him gasping. Much to his disdain, this was doing nothing to discourage the ache beneath his shorts.

 “This stag… Do you find him to be dangerous?”

 It seemed that Hannibal was unable to resist probing. The younger male’s response was quick, coming out of his mouth before he had a moment to think.

 “No- ...No. He saved me from the… nightmare.”

 It sounded so pathetic when it was put that way, but strangely enough, he found it easier to speak once the floodgates were open. His throat felt dry as he relayed the experience, as short as it was.

 “The demonic thing... it was on me. Sitting on my abdomen. I couldn’t really see it. But… it was choking me. I could feel the pressure clearly.”

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was incredibly difficult to simply sit back, waiting for his puppy to come out with it. Hannibal had an array of questions being restrained, eager to burst forth. But he was being careful, unwilling to have the male shut him out regarding this dream in particular. This dream was just the tip of the iceberg, the entryway to the maze of Will’s extraordinary mind.

_What exactly had turned his boy into an aroused, gasping mess?_

He continued to watch his companion through clouded maroon hues, impatience hidden expertly with clinical interest. The boy’s thighs were shifting beneath the covers, just slightly. Just enough for Hannibal to take notice, but not so much that he would have missed it had he not been paying perfect attention. But he had been. And those crucial words hadn’t been missed either. Hannibal bit back a dark smirk.

 “And how did that make you feel..?”

 His words were quiet, his tone feathery soft as he lifted a hand to the utterly vulnerable neck. The rapidly quivering pulse beneath the smooth expanse of flesh betrayed the shameful arousal; if the heady scent coming off that boy wasn’t evidence enough.

 There was hesitation in the boy’s voice.

 “I felt… weak.”

 Hannibal’s slender fingers slowly dragged along the curve of Will’s throat, and he found himself wondering what sort of expression the boy would possess if he began to tighten his grip. What sounds he would make as he began to lose consciousness. Will was eyeing him rather warily, but he couldn’t stop his own thoughts.

  _Would he cum in the process?_

 Hannibal harboured no doubt. And thus, he wrapped his fingers around the willing throat, squeezing promptly.

 “Hannibal--“ the younger male’s hands instantly came up to grip onto the attacking arm.

 The desperate look on Will’s face told all. He looked blatantly distressed as his cheeks were turning pink. His eyes, those frigid pools of ice, they were clouded over with something he could only assume was lust. His lips were slightly parted in attempt to aid in his laboured breathing. Hannibal felt the boy’s leg nudge his hip, no doubt in response to the twitching down below.  

 He wasn’t squeezing hard enough to cause anything but mild discomfort. The reaction wasn’t as potent as he had hoped. The older boy knew that Will somehow still felt as though the situation was under his control, and he couldn’t have that.

 “ _Ah_... but that isn’t quite true, is it..?”

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Will visibly panicked as the older boy suddenly straddled over his stomach, one large hand pressed expertly into his already sore throat. His fingers didn’t seem to faze Hannibal at all. This clearly wasn’t the first time that this psychiatrist to-be had put his hands on someone. The movements were all incredibly controlled. Inhumanly so.

 “F.. Fucking.. stop…” He snarled out low, unable to manage anything louder.

 “Are you sure that’s what you’d like?” Hannibal’s head cocked to the side, his appearance rather calm despite the strenuous activity that he was engaging in. He was amused. Beneath him, Will was gasping and gripping at his forearm in a fruitless attempt to loosen the iron grip. Will’s arousal had been overcome by shock. But it would be forced to the surface once more. A sudden touch caused Will’s hips to violently buck upward, a choked moan resounding. Hannibal had reached back with his free hand, gripping his clothed erection firmly through the thin sheets.

 And once again, he repeated in that infuriatingly jovial tone, “Are you sure that’s what you would like?”

 Just as Hannibal’s clenched right hand was squeezing, his left hand followed, trapping the younger boy’s erection in a controlled vice. Constricting, releasing. Pausing. And continuing again.Will’s tear-blurred gaze was caught on the expression gracing the opposing face. It was nothing more than pure dark amusement across Hannibal’s features. This boy was the true demon.

 He could manage no more than a breathy, pathetic shudder of a moan.

  _“No..”_


End file.
